Plate #1. Aristolean Angles
There is nothing magical or engaging or creative about putting a mismatched lens on an expensive camera and walking around aimlessly looking for images that might be titillating to some diffuse audience at their wit's end to read something, anything about photography --- unless the writing makes it so. Why else do we put up with the ego, snobbishness, posturing and various personality disorders of the people who blog?
Spice rack.
So, without further ado, here is a story "methinks" might satisfy the "ole" gaping hole of emptiness in the world of post modern, post technology, post webanalia photography...
I got in my late model, small size, canvas white SUV and drove through the plush hills of my home town, heading off to buy some plastic screws with which to install a bidet onto the toilet in one of our many historic-era bathrooms. On the way to the hardware store, which cheats me and overcharges me at every turn, I decided I had enough consumer commerce for the day and decided to focus instead on my other relentless and pointless compulsion. Walking through an uncrowded and largely uninteresting urban space with a camera in my hand and a spirit of gloomy hopefulness looking for progress in that illusive practice we've come to label as "street photography."
I walked by an interesting looking person with horns growing out of her skull and a t-shirt which read: "eat now, before it's all gone!!!" but I was too uncomfortable to photograph her. I fear potential confrontations with strangers. As I walked along in my Brentwood canvas sneakers I stuck my hand into the front left pocket of my Brooks Brothers Casual Grey Light Wool Trousers and pulled out a wad of cash. I caught myself wondering where that cash from. I lost the train of thought. But then, up ahead I saw a grizzled old man in a shiny, silver space suit. Around his neck hung a sign which read, "Please, feel free to photograph me." But I was uncomfortable with the whole situation and side-stepped it by looking at my feet and not looking up as I passed by. During which I felt the weight of my eccentric camera and weird, limited edition lens, tugging at my shoulder. But, of course, I fear confrontations with strangers so I felt justified in taking a "miss" on that particular photograph. No long term regrets.
doilies.
Then I saw the lovely diagonals of the structure in plate #1 and a smile broke out across my chubby and precisely shaved face and I thought to myself, "finally. a subject worthy of my august and highly capable camera rig. I'll present the finished image to my friends so that they too can enjoy the spirited dynamism of the diagonal and the luscious and heady palette of gray tones. From coal black, zone zero all the way up to the barest, feathered touches of highlight as the frame flirts with 255. And so I adjusted my stance and went into the camera's menu to make a myriad of adjustments and aesthetic choices. As I was doing so a parade of nudist college cheerleaders ambled by and called out a vigorous morning greeting to me. One even gestured toward me provocatively with her pom moms.
I'd have shot some frames but for two reasons. Firstly, I was embroiled in the many manifestations of photographic control presented by the camera's seemingly bottomless menus and secondly, because I was uncomfortable with the idea of photographing strangers. Especially so since they were nude young woman walking vigorously through a public space. Instead, I concentrated on perfecting the camera settings and mapping out how I would make the actual photograph of the modern building. How many inches to the left tor right would I have to commit to in order to get the "perfect" frame? What angle of inclination would be acceptable in order to include all of the careful geometry of the frame? Should I wait through several cycles of wandering cloud cover in order to display the gray tones in their highest glory? Should I take a break from the arduous task of making this solitary frame, which was so filled with potential energy, to go off in search of a nice sandwich (complete with farm raised tomatoes straight off the vine and glorious fresh bread, fragrant with promise?) or perhaps one of the "new-fangled" wraps everyone is discussing on the talk radio streaming channel featured on my home computer? In the end I persevered and got the shot. Its true glory is lost here but on my dedicated website I've carefully placed a 290 Gigabyte version for your viewing pleasure and edification. (Does edification have anything to do with edifices? and if so, is that word really about the science of studying buildings? Methinks it does but your mileage may vary and as long as you don't hurt anyone too much you are, of course, entitled to your own opinions...).
tea cups.
Fortified by my first success of the day, and having already entitled it as "Aristolean Angles" I felt as though I had justified all those years of drudgery and debasement that comprised my university education ( at a convincingly prestigious school) and brought to the fore a poetic notion of photography that competed but also aligned, readily, with the work of the poet, Wallace Stevens. This image would be my "Palm at the End of the Mind." I was motivated from my very core to move on and find more "treasures of the lens" to share with you. Excuse me for a moment as I stop just here to do a quick re-write. One of many this morning.
semblance of...
Plate 2: "As goes Sisyphus there goes the lollipop of a butterfly."
In the scene represented in Plate 2 there was originally a driver standing by the door of the truck, just off center of the frame. He was dressed in a lime green jumpsuit that was festooned with thousands of tiny electric light bulbs which glowed and pulsed. He was also wearing a black, felt top hat and had on his weathered and craggy face a handlebar mustache which had been well waxed and was, no kidding, at least eighteen inches wide. When I accidentally made eye contact with him he smiled warmly and nodded, as if to say, "sure...you can take my picture." But as you are probably aware of by now the whole range of ambiguities that photo opportunities sometimes come wrapped in can, these days, make me uncomfortable. So I pretended to fix something in my camera menu and then pretended to check the stock market results on my smart cellular phone and waited for the man in the frame to step away from the scene so I could take a truly compelling photograph which encapsulates the idea of commerce combined with transportation. Truly a nod to the complexities of modern life overlayed by an appreciation for large machines which, in themselves constitute an allegory about the eventual extinction of dinosaurs. Get it? They got too big and could not survive the impact of the comet. The comet in this case being the cultural progression from carbon-based energy sources to fully electric vehicles. So much meaning in one photograph. Right?
Pet ferrets.
After trying about 15 different angles and using an app on my phone to see if the lighting might be more advantageous in a half hour, an hour, or several more hours, I decided that I really did have a "keeper" and decided instead to move on and continue my search for meaning in an urban environment with a camera. in hand. Dammit. Another re-write rears its ugly head.
Plate #3. "Inclusion and exclusion. the Athena Paradox.
In nearly all social constructs there is a cohort "looking in" and a cohort "looking out." The politics of inclusion and exclusion. Predicating a hard demarcation between accepted members of an area and the rejected ones. In Plate #3 we clearly see two almost square, horizontal doors near the middle of the frame which serve as metaphorical proxies for an entrance and an exit and all that this entails. As the painter, Jasper Johns, often said of construction like this: "Rectangles are cool but square creations are cooler." To which the composer, Ottorino Respighi, often would kiddingly say, "but Jasper, how am I supposed to hear the differences between a square shape and an opera." A sentiment that is often repeated by other composers. To my ears the almost squares here (hear?) represent the repression of outsiders and the regimentation of access to and from the prime collective. One touch that didn't become clear until the work was printed in a size of four by six feet is the well placed rodent trap in the lower left corner. This might symbolize a secondary and very playful repetition of the basic idea of inclusion and exclusion given that the targets for the trap may enter but not exit. But it could also be an allegorical statement about the distraction from art of death. Morbid but buttressed by the conjectures of David Hume.
Plate #3. "Manifestation of gender pranking. In pink."
I currently have no essay for this image which causes me
no little consternation. Open for conjecture.
Plate #4. "The Cloistered Mind. Bifurcating Attention."
An apparently simple visual essay addressing alienation and loneliness in modern North America. And an odd intellectual conflict given that while the copy of the signage in the background (center frame) speaks to regret for bad decisions the selling proposition is that a hamburger with meat patties, accompanied by fried potatoes cooked in oil might be a selection that would not be regretted even though the levels of fat, sodium and various heat mutated nitrates is generally not considered in some way be a good decision when being introduced for human consumption.
The underlying assumption of the advertising copy is that a night of alcohol and other chemical abuse might lead to partnering with someone for a sexual encounter that could be fraught with consequences, the nature and severity of which are blunted by intoxication and ignored at the instigator's peril. In that way the sign and indeed the photo speak to bad nutrition as being the favorable choice in a binary selection of activities undertaken after midnight. Or indeed, in some cultures, even after 10 p.m. When in fact an infinite range of other choices could be made. Unless free will and determination have been rendered invalid.
The image leads the viewer into the conversation by canting the building's edges in order to force a secondary diagonal construct (nearly vertical) which throws the human figures out of balance while at the same time bringing a certain sense of balance to the typography on display. The addition of the microscopic-sized human on the right (an effect of converting three dimensional subject matter into the confines of two dimensions via the camera and lens and the ensuing diminishment of object size relative to the foreground subject due to proximity to the lens) plays into the composition as a subtle suggestion of the lesser role she might play in the drama of late night decision making. By capturing the male on the middle/left side of the frame, and in the process of striding forward with purpose, the topography of the image let's the viewer know that subject's intentionality will in some way be fostered, at least subconsciously, by his exposure to the sign. Even if its effects are largely subliminal.
Just sayin.
Given the richness of the image and its layering of meaning and context it's hard not to label this as one of the highest examples of incisive modern art. Or, as Leonardo da Vinci often taunted his assistants when observing their own work: "Jesus. My five your old daughter can do better chiaroscuro than that." After which he would use a full brush and flick paint, disrepectfully, on the assistant's work in progress. And, when confronted by historical quotes by Leonardo of this nature, modern psychologists have often said, "I wonder what Phillip Roth's mother would have said?"
That print is definitely a "collectible."
Turtleneck sweaters.
Plate #5. "Desolation and Emptiness in post modern urban constructs."
or "The Honey Badger of Desolation."
No essay for this. Entirely self explanatory.
dungarees.
But a quick gallery note. Carefully examine the artist's unwavering talent in creating a perfect matrix of tones and balance. If you were totally color blind you might think, in the moment, that you were
actually in the scene. A tour de force of presentations, for sure.
Plate #6. "Playful interlude."
Plate #7. "Magenta Framed by Pink"
Challenging our expectations that true photographic art must always be experienced in black and white, or grayscale, or even monochrome in order to come into its own as being art historically relevant. A powerful visual treatise in the tensile power of color differentiation in this highly structured and confined medium. Two universes co-existing in a single plane.
Plate #8. "Print is not dead."
Plate #9. "Dolly Man."
A work that, compositionally, has it all. There are so many diagonals that the eye of the viewer is entranced and becomes absorbed in the angles of the road, the street, the vague and subtle lines in the street and every the perspective rich diagonal of the delivery trucks trailer. Not to be overlooked are the dual diagonals of the bearded man's hand truck. Or, in popular parlance: "dolly."
When one adds in the implied motion of the cars and trucks receding from the frame on the right you have a combined collection of stationary objects contrasting with powerfully implied kinetic progression. Even the cars, from right to left, anchored near center with their intersection with the truck create both a diagonal and a triangle of objets. (or.... objects) which help to propel the eye of the appraiser willy-nilly through the frame. Susan Sontag might have been so proud.
Easy to make art here as this is a "diagonal rich environment." Pro tip: diagonals are easy. First stand with both feet on the curb facing directly into the street. Now turn your body 45° to one side or the other. Now photograph! Easy as pie. (a Thanksgiving bit of humor).
deciduous.
Plates 12 and 13. "The artist seen by artist on various man made metal constructs of industry."
As general Ulysses S. Grant, Jr. would observe: "the first and most important step it to make sure your gosh damned shoes are well tied. You can't go into battle or the creation of art if you are constantly stumbling over you shoelaces." And "word."
Now time for a weekend of re-writing, editing and then re-writing. Don't even get me started on moderating the comments. I wish they would just take care of themselves.
Wooly slippers and the smoking of a Meerschaum pipe strongly encouraged. Corduroy "sport coat" with faux leather elbow patches recommended. Green tea... optional.
Re-write.
And, happily, I was not "uncomfortable" photographing my own feet. In fact, it was very comfortable. As were the shoes themselves.
chimney flue.
